


Doctor Daycare

by Legitconcrusher



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Acid-rain, Family, Major Character Injury, Medical Procedures, Minor Injuries, Multi, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-War, chemical burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legitconcrusher/pseuds/Legitconcrusher
Summary: Eager to escape the throes of the Decepticon cause following the Great War, Knock out has sided with the Autobots yet appears to have no quick-fix solution to change his haughty attitudes. Ratchet has always been a short-tempered and no nonsense kind of bot. Two stubborn 'Bots with two different work ethics placed into one area of work was always going to have some form of setback. But what would happen if for once they were forced to see optic-to-optic? When a newspark is found caught up in the deadly effects of an acid rain storm, both medical officers, new and old, will have to push their differences to one side especially when some old familiar faces begin to resurface in some rather unusual circumstances. Anger will fire out, stress will filter in and reminiscence will play its part as the world around them grows...in more ways than one.





	

Doctor Day-care

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE TRANSFORMERS PRIME CHARACTERS AS THEY BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS; HASBRO

No one should ever have to feel lonely. No one should treat others with disrespect. No one was created to die; though these thoughts have plagued the minds of many for centuries. It makes them cower in fear from things that never used to raise alarm. Once in this state of mind however, one rarely escapes it. It will eventually swallow them whole until everything...everything turns black; pitch black. It is caused by mainly the loss of something of great importance to the person; a thing that is irreplaceable; never again to show its face through the ever darkening fog of ones crumbling state of mind.

Some of this self-created fear can occasionally lead to forms of depression; irreversible depression. If it is not the pain from loss that drives a person to their extremes then it is the agony of the slower yet overall more deadly depression that destroys and literally tears a person apart: physically, mentally and spiritually. No matter how strong they thought they had been before the mist began to creep in, their real and truest colours will appear under the blackest shadows of their once clear, perky mind.

In a dimly lit room, a continuous symphony of tapping of keys filled the area. It would unexpectedly stop for a short period of time and then it would suddenly start again; a continuous cycle. If one was to observe the surroundings further, their gazes would stumble upon a Cybertronian; a Cybertronian who was hunched over a large computer keypad. The mysterious humanoid creature tapped several more keys before gazing up to proof-read what he had typed. Solitary was an excellent description of him, as well as slightly antisocial at times. But it was a well known fact among armies, that war changes people, and change him it did. Once a young Cybertronian mech learning to be an assistant medical officer was abruptly thrown into war and thrown into becoming one of the most prized medics to have ever walked the very face of Cybertron.

His personality...

...where would one start?

His personality varied depending on what situation he was placed into. He was not boisterous nor was he rebellious; he was not quiet or timid either. The only official way to describe him correctly would be to say that he was on the boundary of every emotion; mysterious yet not unpredictable.

The mech would grumble upon occasion though he was more than likely unaware that he was doing so. He wasn't high-strung but when someone aggravated him past his limits, the storm would begin and the volcano would erupt. You certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of his anger, especially when his most "esteemed" possession was at servos' reach...and that continuous shuffling of pedes behind him was enough for him to snap.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WHEELJACK?! IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE, I'VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES! YOU HAVE TO GIVE YOUR LACERATIONS AND WOUNDS ACTUAL TIME TO-!" He growled and snapped his frame to face the intruder at a remarkable speed. "Errr...my apologies Knock out, I thoug-"

"Wheeljack? Nein, nein...but you do sound rather disappointed that that rugged wrecker isn't here talking with you" The mech in question leapt out of his awkward pose and casually sauntered next to his colleague; his flirty tone rising to his vocalizer. The cherry red mech clasped his servos together behind his back and rocked nonchalantly on his heels humming in thought. His vigilant crimson optics flicked across the main computer monitor; carefully observing Ratchet's work. "So...dearest Ratchet, what wonders have you been working on at such a joor?"

Ratchet watched the mech scan over his work and he gradually turned to face the large centre computer monitor as his colleague had done.

"Not a great deal...I've just been decoding various files that I uncovered late in our stay upon Earth" The older bot mumbled unsure if Knock out was faking his interest."Hmmm, I see," Knock out replied bringing a servo to rest under his chin "Considering you rarely left that sleazy garrison that you called "home", surely you would've had plentiful time to finish your work?"

"Hmmm, I see," Knock out replied bringing a servo to rest under his chin "Considering you rarely left that sleazy garrison that you called "home", surely you would've had plentiful time to finish your work?"

"Regardless of the fact that I had the time to do it, the frequent racket of the base detoured me from it. Besides it is hard to concentrate with the ruckus of the children and those Wreckers. In the end, it just kept going to the back of my mind..." A sad smile formed upon Ratchet's lip components thinking about the little organic planet and its even smaller inhabitants. The older medic showed very little positive emotion but the children had all gained a very special yet secret spot in Ratchet's ancient spark; a place that they would probably never discover. He truly cared for them; even though they had their mischievous moments, those moments mainly being Miko's.

"Ohhh I've seen that look...you miss those humans don't you dearest Ratchet! How pleasant and charming of you to consider them on an acquaintance basis" Knock out's famous "courteous" voice emerged to the surface, much to Ratchet's dismay. The older medic was pondering very deeply to find a logical way to shut the arrogant mech up which involved NOT waking everyone from recharge.

"Moving on," Ratchet said quickly, changing the subject through his tightly gritted denta. "Why, exactly, are you awake at this joor? Insomniac? Or have you just come to boast about your "immaculate" finish and simply could not wait until tomorrow to inform me?!"

...That did it...

The cherry red mech's vermillion optics snapped open as he scowled at the chief medical officer in disgust. If Knock out did not constantly buff and wax himself as much as he did, then he would look like everyone else in this living establishment; scarred and worn. What was everyone's problem with the way he lived?!

"Why you bit-brain, rusty old burnout!" Knock out snapped stabbing one of elongated talons towards Ratchet who just glared at the mech babbling before him; his beady and wise optics narrowing.

"For a "newly recruited" Autobot, you've already broken one rule..." The chief medical officer said an unreadable.

"Moi? A "newly recruited" Autobot? What, in the name of Primus, gave you that impression!" The cherry red mech spat through his tightly gritted denta and a forced grin.

The sudden silence began to swarm the atmosphere between the pair which sent an uneasy feeling into Knock out's tanks as shivers ran up and down his spinal strut.

...Oh joy...

"Never...ever! Treat anybody like you have just treated me! Because do you know what Knock out? Everybody else will treat you like the knock-off coward I've heard you numerous times to be".

An awestruck expression leapt onto Knock out's faceplates as a hurricane of anger began to swim its way to the surface.

...And boy was it fast...

"That is rather steep coming from a Prime's lapdog" Knock out growled, his seething tone sent electric sparks crackling inside his own processor. "You are one to talk dear doctor, just how many times did you leave your little Earth accommodation exactly. Yes if I recall correctly you weren't quite the outdoorsman..."

Ratchet was ever so close to slapping the narcissistic mech across the faceplates...with his wrench. His moods changed quicker than the blink of an optic; one klik he had been roaring at him for saying he was a coward which honestly in Ratchet's optics he was, and the next he is his cocky self again, as if he had never been angry in the first place. How he was going to learn to cope with him he would never know.

...He had to face facts; getting along with Knock out was incorrigible...

"You would be wise to respect Ratchet, Soldier, for he is a very valuable member of our team and is extremely skilled in what he does".

Both Knock out and Ratchet turned to face the corridor behind them where a darkened silhouette stepped out of the shadows to reveal Ultra Magnus standing proud; one of his large pedes marginally raised off of the ground. Ratchet nodded his helm once and almost instantly, the new Autobot leader began limping towards the pair. He still hadn't fully recovered from his battle with the two new Predacons on the scene; neither had Smokescreen. He hadn't mentioned anything about his wrist joint being a little stiff and had been instructed by Ratchet to put oil on it twice an orbital cycle.

The commander's injuries however were a great deal more complicated; luckily for him, many had been cosmetic which meant Knock out had had something to do. As for the non-cosmetic injuries, Ultra Magnus thankfully only had one notable. A servo-full of secondary circuits in his left leg had to be completely reattached for they had violently snapped during the battle. Fortunately for Ultra Magnus only four of his primary circuits in his leg had been slightly lacerated instead of snapping like his secondary ones. Any other wounds were simply the result of stretched and torn muscle mesh and the only blatant sign of his injuries was his limping and raised pede.

"Now...would either of you care to explain to me why you are creating a rambunctious and orderless conversation at this joor?" The tall commander inquired while gradually limping towards the pair; his optics never faltering despite the intense cramping in his leg.

"I was finishing some work that I wasn't able to on Earth, Commander" The chief medical officer murmured not making eye-contact

Ultra Magnus hummed in agreement as his piercing gaze unhurriedly wandered over to Knock out.

"And what is your excuse, Soldier?"

Knock out was classified as a Soldier however, he didn't really attend field mission enough to be one. A body work artist was undoubtedly best suited for him rather than risking his own finish more than once an orbital cycle. He wasn't even officially schooled correctly to be a medical assistant and yet somehow he managed to teach himself enough to become one. At the time however, medics were in short supply on Cybertron and both factions were taking absolutely anybody who knew anything medical.

But then it hit him, what was his excuse? His lying skills drew up mediocre however, Knock out had a bad tendency to say more than what he needed to.

"Are your audio receptors impaired Soldier!"

...Soldier?

"Mein Kommandant...you flatter me; a Soldier...ha! You see...my "specialty" is body work which explains why there are positively no scratchs or dents upon your frame, Commander Magnus sir" Knock out uttered as his crimson gleamed a daring glow. The Commander and the chief medical officer stared at the cherry red "medic" in awe. Knock out had been well respected by the Vehicons and Eradicons aboard the Nemesis as he was the one constantly rebuilding and fixing them and especially after Breakdown's demise; it gave Knock out a daily insight into what had been occurring in other parts of the vast ship. He was the only one who didn't bark orders at them which they had greatly appreciated.

"My apologies...Knock out is it?" Knock out allowed a devilish smirk to grace his lips and demonstrated enough decency to nod his helm. "Ahem...well as I was stating earlier...what is your excuse for being awake at this joor, Knock out?"

The cherry red mech lifted his helm up to see Ultra Magnus's shrewd gaze digging into his own vermilion optics. His optics twitched in uneasiness as he felt himself beginning to stew in his own guilt.

...This was going to be interesting to say the least...

"I was," Knock out slowly began. "Assisting our dear medical officer with...with his...errrm," Knock out's processor was flicking through the conversation he had with Ratchet before Ultra Magnus had interrupted and what he had said he'd been doing. What was it! WHAT WAS IT! Decoding various files! EUREAKEA! "Decoding of various files as I presumed an older model such as himself may have needed someone with a younger touch to assist him-!"

Knock out heard the white and orange mech exhale sharply with an added curse in obvious irritation. The Aston martin may have been arrogant in what he had said but he had gotten the general gist across.

...mostly...

A lengthy pause followed Knock out's reply as Ultra Magnus continuously flicked his gaze between both of the shorter mechs; analysing the current situation before him. Ultra Magnus would have sent the pair on their way, straight away, but he knew both of these mechs were medical officers, one being a great and world renowned physician upon Cybertron and Earth. No matter his authority or the protocol that stood, he could never overwrite Ratchet's or Knock out's medical opinions on him; nor could he on any one of the Autobot warriors and currently his wounds meant he was not allowed to perform any task which required an overuse of his normal span of motion. Thankfully, now that the war had drawn to a conclusion, he wouldn't have to worry about rushing his recovery to get ready for a battle. Now he could find peace as well as everyone else.

Being the only logical choice, Ultra Magnus had taken Optimus's former role as leader of the Autobots; though the commander knew all too well that he would never live up to be as commendable as the last Prime had been. Still, dwelling upon the past was not going to put anyone else further in life-this included Ultra Magnus.

"Ahem! Commander Magnus..."

A voice startled him out of his trance as he gazed down to see Ratchet with a fisted servo to his mouth components.

...Humans and their bizarre ways of communicating...

The chief medical officer's optics were angled upwards towards his superior officer as they seemed to swirl in confusion as a small sample of dominance and authority stood. The chief medical officer then continued...

"...I would strongly advise you to not strain your injuries, Sir"

Ultra Magnus glanced down at the considerably smaller mech with an unreadable expression as his optics began to narrow regaining his authority with ease.

"I thoroughly understand and respect your medical opinions and views doctor, however I honestly do not see any fault in simply standing here conversing with you both" The tallest of the group replied, one of his optic ridges' raised.

"Too much strain upon your injuries and wounds is not salubrious and I would strongly advise you to retire to your quarters and actually power-down instead of completing your pile of reports. I do not intend to sound harsh in any way, shape or form Ultra Magnus but you will only make it harder for yourself if your body does not receive a lengthy and decent period of rest".

The commander said nothing for a few moments but then he finally yet slowly nodded before turning his attention back to Knock out who stared at Ultra Magnus emotionlessly.

"I presume that you concur with Ratchet's medical views and opinions?"

Knock out's opinions on the Commander's situation were far from the same and as far as he was concerned, the Autobot Commander had almost completely healed. His leg didn't spasm like it did before when he stood at all, and the strip of metal that Ratchet had welded over his leg laceration was nearly due to be removed; to treat the wound underneath again and for the chief medical officer to judge as to whether he needed the strip of metal to be put on again or whether his laceration had healed enough to leave it off for good. Then again, Ratchet was more senior...and knew far more about this topic than Knock out; Ratchet had a tendency to inform his patients the truth which, as he had observed, wasn't always what they wanted to hear. His observation being between Ratchet and Wheeljack which abruptly ended when Wheeljack said something which he ended up immediately regretting as the chief medical officer lobbed a wrench at his helm...which nearly knocked poor Bumblebee down in the process.

"I...I agree with the good doctor. It isn't advised for you to be doing something too physical for lengthy periods of time..." The cherry red mech nodded.

Ultra Magnus hummed offlining his optics to analyse the both of the medics' statements; which to his annoyance were extremely similar. He had been hoping that one of them would've said he was discharged from his confinement to their new headquarters. The Commander hadn't been on any patrols for what seemed like one whole vorn and honestly...he would have been lying if he thought it actually had been a vorn; constantly in his quarters with dim lighting, going through his ever growing pile of datapad reports that had been logged into the main computer in the main room. Joor after joor after agonizing joor he typed or read. Whatever he had read seemed to vanish into the boundaries of his CPU and disintegrate into nothingness. Ultra Magnus worked well into the night and early joors upon occasion but this only resulted in him falling into a power-down at his unkempt desk.

He rapidly onlined his optics as he unexpectedly awoke from his small train of thought. His steady glance traveled downcast to the two mechs; who gazed back at him with puzzlement in both of their blue and vermilion optics.

"Judging by your statements regarding my welfare, I believe I will be unable to join everyone else on their patrols?"

...scrap...

"I cannot believe you could think of such things!" Ratchet snapped, one of his famous mood swings kicking into full gear. "In your current condition you expect me to allow you into the field!"

"I do not appreciate your tone doctor and you are forgetting that there is another medical officer present and you would be wise to confer your medical opinions with Knock out from now on instead of speaking for our..." Ultra Magnus paused suddenly as his gaze quickly shifted to Knock out before rapidly flicking back to fall upon the chief medical once more ."...newest recruit"

Knock out's optic fumbled from embarrassment as he gazed at the floor as if it had miraculously spiked his interest; which it definitely hadn't. When he had been a Decepticon, when confronted with Megatron's destructive wrath everything about him began to waver; his optics could simply never lock onto anything and when Megatron's booming and commanding voice echoed through the space he faltered even more.

...Yes under all of the cockiness and arrogance was an apprehensive mech but no one had known him for long enough to possibly know this; Breakdown being the only exception...

Sometimes, Knock out's audio receptors would be ringing joors after his former leader's rampages or failed missions. He was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who suffered from this symptom. When Megatron was not in a joyous mood he made the whole FRAGGING solar system know about it by screaming out threats or screeching a battle cry as he charged towards innocent Vehicons; Vehicons the Decepticons had been in a constant shortage of.

...Primus knows why...

"Ahem...well then if you don't mind me I'll be on way to my quarters..." Ultra Magnus paused as he glared at Ratchet as he spoke up again "...to get some much needed rest I can assure you both," The Commander paused for a final time adding ... "If I am making the effort to recharge, I would strongly advise for you both to do the same..."

He gained a nod from them both before turning on his heel and, slowly but steadily, limped towards the darkened corridor. His pede-falls echoed off of every wall. Step, scrape, and grunt. Step, scrape, and grunt. Step, scrape, and grunt were the only sounds that met the two mechs' audio receptors as they gradually began to grow quieter and quieter, softer and softer until the click of a quarters' door was heard and the mechs optics met once more.

"Well...are you going to...?" Knock out started gesturing towards the corridor, a sense of awkwardness washing over his cocky nature.

"No...No," Ratchet waved him off also feeling a little bit awkward "I shall continue my work..."

Ratchet turned to face the large monitors filled with various pieces of text. Then he slowly began to stride towards them in a unusual upbeat walk. Knock out wore a similar expression as he watched the older medic walk towards the monitors and within a short period of time, Ratchet had begun typing again as his mumbling or his "proof-reading" continued. An interesting cycle to say the least...

The cherry red mech shrugged while humming as he did so; he wasn't needed or useful at this current time to the old medi-bot. A sudden tiredness washed over him as he could make out his berth beckoning him to rest. He swivelled around and causally began to stroll out of the room to his quarters when Ratchet's voice echoed from his work space.

"Knock out..." He began, hearing the red mechs' pede-falls suddenly stopped. A shuffling of stabilizing servos was heard that were also followed closely by a fatigued sigh. The chief medical officer knew; Knock out was more than likely wearing that repulsive and smug smirk on his mouth components as one of his servos would be neatly placed on one of his hips in that irritating manner of his.

...how delightful...

"Do you...Do you think that Megatron still resides h-?"

"No," Knock out cut him off mid-word and judging by the way he spoke, Ratchet knew he wasn't lying about his thoughts. "I honestly think he has left Cybertron and possibly even this is my opinion on this matter though. I could tell that Megatron's words on his understanding of oppression were aberrant of him and in spite of everything he lied to you about; I can assure you...my former master was telling you nothing but the truth..."

"So you don't think he's in hiding somewhere plotting his next move?"

"Megatron may be known to be a ruthless tyrant but he knows when he has been beaten; for all we know, dearest Ratchet, he may very well be in hiding all the way in the ruins of his former stomping grounds where he was a "champion" gladiator, or he could be a few thousand mechanometers away but none of which are in my best interests and they shouldn't be in yours either"

Ratchet swiftly turned around to face him completely baffled as Knock out crossed his arms over his chassis.

"You mean to tell me that you are not a bit concerned about your former leader?"

Knock out shook his helm. "I have never had to have been, he was rarely on the medical berth in any serious or critical conditions. He has only been in one dire affair on my watch; he is quite capable of taking care of himself if that's what you mean..."

Knock out felt the tension radiating off of Ratchet's chassis. Something did not feel right; the atmosphere had become an unpredictable cloud of uncertainty. The old medical officer must not have been telling him something, something he didn't want to share.

...time to charm it up Knock out...

"Are you quite alright Ratchet? You seem a tad bit te-?"

"I am perfectly fine!" Ratchet offlined his optics and let his helm fall downcast, thoughts of the former Decepticon leader's return clouding his processor with all the gory Ratchet's visions were brought to a thorough stand still when laughter glided rapidly into his audio receptors. Curiosity overwhelmed him as he unhurriedly lifted his helm up, onlining his optics only to see something that made his tanks churn with infuriation.

...Knock out was in hysterics...

"I-I do not understand? What is-what is so amusing Knock out?" His confused tone only made the younger medic roar even louder with laughter. He didn't answer Ratchet however and continued to snicker; this only aggravated the older medi-bot further as he felt his energon begin to boil.

"Knock out! If you don't tell me what is so hilarious in three astroseconds I will weld your servos to your stabilizing servos!" Ratchet hissed trying not to break into pure shouting. The red mech almost instantly ceased his cackling and glared at the other medic with a faint glint of vainness in his vermilion optics.

"Alright, alright don't get a glitch in your equilibrium sensors!"

By now Ratchet was undoubtedly close to smacking Knock out's smugness all the way back to the rust age but thankfully for the self-centred mech, the old chief medical officer had a firm grip on his very last strand of sanity; a grasp that may not last for much longer...Ratchet knew all too well that Knock out was trying every method in the datapad to get right under his proto-form.

...It was working...

"Please," Ratchet snarled through his gritted denta as he crossed his arms. "...continue"

"I just found it amusing as to how your emotions change with such a short occurrence"

...That's what Ratchet had told himself about Knock out!

A lengthy and awkward silence dragged on after Knock out's reply as both mechs glowered at each other. Crimson disks locked with cyan ones, both reading the other's motives and feelings.

"Like what you see doctor?" Knock out said in a seductive tone, smirking as he did so as he winked one of his vermilion disked optics flirtatiously.

"Ironically, I don't," Ratchet snapped making the younger bot's faceplates drop as they changed into a peeved scowl. His crimson optics began to swarm with utter umbrage as Ratchet observed the self-centred mech before him. Both medical officers seemed to create a bitter and irritable atmosphere whenever they were in the same space and for everyone else in close proximity. No matter how many times Optimus had told him prior to this day that plentiful arguments makes a relationship between to two people stronger...

...His statement was not entirely true with this relationship...

...It couldn't be...

Turning swiftly on his heel strut, Knock out began exiting the main room without a single mutter of "goodnight" or "see you tomorrow, dearest doctor". He was in an obvious sulk about verbally being out smarted; that or he was too tired to retort anything back to Ratchet.

As the sulking mech's pede-falls began to fade into nothingness, the old medical officer turned slowly and trudged sluggishly towards the monitors and once again began typing on the large keypad. He wasn't in the mood for anymore conversing tonight with anyone regardless of their needs.

He needed peace...

...he needed tranquillity...

...he needed to accept the new changes, no matter how difficult they were to him...

But this level of happiness he doubted he'd ever received; this unusual "family", that Optimus had named it, never seemed to give him the opportunity and probably never would.

As his processor clicked back to his conversation with...Knock out... he began to question his behaviour. He had been a fool. Acting like a rebellious youngling and the way he encouraged him by answering back the way he had done.

Whimsical...that was the only word that sprung to mind...

Showing sudden changes of mood or behaviour...that was definitely what he had just displayed.

...what they had both displayed...

His processor then leapt to another question: how was he meant to work orbital cycle upon orbital cycle with a self-centred egotistic mech like Knock out. It was quite possible that he would go blind from his "outstanding" finish or Knock out's vain quotes about himself would send him deaf. Either way, Ratchet had hit rock bottom...

...could his life possibly get any worse?

Yes, it could...

...by something small yet as equally prodigious...


End file.
